


Old Muppets Never Die

by OldToadWoman



Category: The Muppets - All Media Types
Genre: Death, Gen, Humor, Nostalgia, POV Kermit, Wakes & Funerals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-31
Updated: 2018-01-31
Packaged: 2019-03-11 23:30:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13534839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OldToadWoman/pseuds/OldToadWoman
Summary: It's Statler's funeral. Kermit is introspective. There are rats and chickens and boomerang fish.(The story is only rated "Teen" for death theme and for language. A Muppet says a bad word.)





	Old Muppets Never Die

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to [Amilyn](http://archiveofourown.org/users/amilyn) and [Persephone Garnata](http://archiveofourown.org/users/persephone_garnata) for proofreading and encouragment.

Statler and Waldorf are dead.

They died within three months of each other, which comes as no surprise despite the fact that a Muppet is theoretically immortal. Over time the bones within grow arthritic and then voices change suddenly bringing a new energy, but it's never quite the same. Eyes and noses can be easily replaced, but an old Muppet still grows weary.

Kermit sits in the audience and thinks about the old saw about couples who can't go on without the other. It does not matter how many times you replace the stuffing or mend the seams when the will to live is gone.

Astoria outlives them both, which isn't really a surprise either, but it means the Muppets have to sit through both funerals, biting their tongues and not mentioning the rumors for the sake of the widow.

Or trying anyway.

It's not that Piggy and Gonzo didn't get the memo. It's that neither of them ever developed a grasp of subtlety or volume control. 

" _Which_ one was she married to again?" Piggy asks, far too loudly at his side. "I always thought they were married to each other."

Even louder, Gonzo, sitting in the row in front of them, declares polyamory to be a beautiful thing. 

Camilla is still squawking her disagreement with that point when the first fish hits the minister in the face and knocks his glasses askew mid-eulogy.

"Lew!!!" Kermit shrieks in horror. 

Even the chickens briefly go quiet as Lew Zealand leans out of the box and sheepishly offers, "Sorry."

Waldorf's funeral had been a much more somber affair. 

His widow Astoria had insisted on holding the funeral in the old theater, putting up a not-inconsiderable amount of money to make it happen. The Muppets had played in many a house over the years so any old theater should have sufficed, but Astoria was adamant. Nothing less than the original Benny Vandergast Memorial Theatre would do. 

The place had been a bit on the run-down side even back in the day. It had lived on—at least if Rizzo could be believed—as a porno movie house for a few years after that, before the Internet made such a thing obsolete, and then it sat vacant, gathering dust and mold, and providing a home to several thousand of Rizzo's descendants. 

A team of cleaners and carpenters had been hired by Astoria Waldorf to whip through the place, shoring up anything structurally unsound, and mopping out the worst of the rat pee, but the general ambiance was still one of decay and neglect. It was an unfortunate theme for a funeral. 

Statler sat in the front row, looking shrunken and lost and muttering heckles without punchlines.

By Statler's funeral, a few short months later, Astoria has had time to do it right. 

The theater is cleaner than it has ever been in living memory. The musty, moth-eaten curtains have been pulled down and replaced with new curtains that are almost, but not quite, the right color, edging closer to puce than burgundy. Even the seats have been reupholstered and this time around Kermit doesn't sit there worrying that mildew might be seeping into his felt during the service.

No one questions the right of Waldorf's widow to arrange Statler's funeral. Kermit recalls vaguely that Statler had a wife of his own at one point, but he's not sure what happened to her and today doesn't seem like an appropriate time to ask. His daughter—Stacy? or was it Stella?—sits nearby looking equally ancient. She and Astoria could be sisters, but that is not a compliment to Astoria.

The minister is vaguely humanoid if slightly on the orange side with a bright green nose. Kermit can't remember having seen him before, but he has a forgettable sort of face so that might not mean anything. Sam the Eagle had officiated at Waldorf's funeral. His pompous droning had been depressing, but it didn't make Kermit's flippers itch with the same nameless foreboding as this stranger.

The minister straightens his spectacles on his round nose and says, "We can at least comfort ourselves that they are finally together in that Great Balcony in the Sky." 

Kermit cringes. 

Too many people have already repeated the cliché about them now being together in that Great Balcony in the Sky and Kermit cringes _every single time_. Firstly, if you're going to be technical, it's not a _balcony_ it's a _box_ and, secondly, Waldorf's widow is _right there_. 

A second fish circles the minister's head, without incident this time. Someone in the rear of the house applauds before being shushed.

The atmosphere buzzes with a strange energy. It is as if Waldorf's funeral had just been the dress rehearsal and Statler's is opening night. 

It's a full house and Kermit gradually begins to realize that more than half the audience are humans that he doesn't know. Many of them are young. Some of them have popcorn. 

There is another smattering of applause as Lew Zealand successfully boomerangs three fish at once.

A worrisome thought occurs to him.

"Scooter!" Kermit hisses over his shoulder.

Scooter leans in from the row behind. "Yeah, boss?" 

"Is someone _selling tickets_ to Statler's funeral?" Kermit whispers.

Scooter isn't as naïve as he used to be. Years ago, he would have cheerfully replied in the affirmative, but something in Kermit's voice clues him in that the truth might not be appreciated and he replies with a slight hesitation. "Three bucks each. Is that a problem?"

Kermit sighs. "I don't know if I'm more offended at the crass commercialism or the low ticket price."

"No worries, boss," Scooter says. "The real money's in the concession stand."

Because _of course_ there's a concession stand. That would explain the popcorn. Now that he's aware of it, Kermit can't help but hear the slurping straws and the rustling candy wrappers. "Who—?" he asks weakly, wondering which of them would ditch a funeral to turn a profit.

"Clifford's in the box office and Bobo the Bear is running the concession stand," Scooter says. 

Kermit supposes that's all right. They weren't around in the old days. At best, they had a passing acquaintance with Statler.

"And Bean Bunny is passing out flyers around the neighborhood," Scooter adds helpfully.

"That would explain the crowd," Kermit says, carefully eyeing the humans, some of whom look even scruffier than most of the Muppets. Not really Statler's sort at all. "They certainly are… interesting."

Piggy leans in and says, in what she probably thinks counts as  _sotto voce_ despite being clearly audible for thirty feet in all directions, "They're called _hipsters_. This whole neighborhood has been, whatchacallit,  _gen-tri-fied_. All we need is WiFi and coffee and we are _set_."

He wants to be offended, but Piggy is reading his mind. He misses the vaudeville days. They've had moderate success with television and film off and on, but there's nothing like live theater. If so many people are willing to pay just to attend a _funeral_...

Another worrisome thought occurs to him.

"Scooter, do these people _know_ this is a funeral?"

Scooter is uncharacteristically silent.

"Scooter?"

"I suppose it depends on how well they understood the flyer. It _does_ say it's Statler's funeral, but Gonzo designed it and—"

"I don't want to know," Kermit says firmly. All he needs to know is that the hipsters are here for performance art. He'd rather not know what flavor of performance art they are expecting. Gonzo's fans can be unnerving.

The fish are sailing in a near constant arc from the box out over the stage and back and the minister is in full swing flinging out saccharine platitudes as quickly as Lew Zealand flings out fish. He quotes the old song "Old Soldiers Never Die" misattributing it to General MacArthur and Kermit has barely time to wonder what point he's trying to make when a familiar voice shouts out:

"They say old farmers never die; they just go to seed!"

Kermit looks up and is even more horrified to realize that their boomerang fish thrower—why do they even _have_ one of those?!—is not only watching the funeral from Waldorf's old seat, but Fozzie Bear is sitting _next_ to him. Statler would be rolling over in his grave—if, y'know, he was already _in_ his grave instead of still in the casket centerstage.

"Fozzie!" Kermit sputters. "Get down from there! You can't—! That's—! Ahhhh!"

"Old bowlers never die; they just end up in the gutter! Wocka wocka!"

Piggy reads Kermit's mind again. "Is he drunk?" she asks.

"Old accountants never die; they just lose their balance! Ah-ha!"

A few seats to Kermit's right, Beaker meeps in bewilderment and Bunsen insists on lecturing him on how puns work, which likely wasn't Beaker's point of confusion at all.

The chickens are getting restless and Kermit thinks he hears a dog barking, but Rowlf is sitting quietly at his keyboard waiting for Wayne and Wanda—who, against Kermit's better judgment, Astoria has agreed to let sing a dirge. Sam probably talked her into it.

The minister only gets louder to compensate and, somehow, in the midst of it all, Fozzie gets on Kermit's nerves the least.

Kermit jerks his head at Rowlf and the band takes the cue and launches into a haunting tune that sounds a bit familiar. Kermit can't quite place it, but he's 99% sure that it has rude words. It's one of those old English songs that sounds like a harmless ditty about flowers until you listen closely. Fortunately, the new curtains weren't installed properly and one of them collapses on Wayne and Wanda before they get to any of the saucy bits.

"Old musicians never die, they just decompose! Wocka wocka!" 

Fozzie is so pleased with himself over that one that he's waggling his ears.

The minister is actively annoyed now. He never wavers from singing the praises of the dearly departed Statler—who you would think was a canonized saint based on the eulogy by this man who clearly never met him—but he starts adding in contrasts. Dear sainted Statler is heaven-bound, "Unlike _some people_ —"

 _Or bears,_ Kermit thinks.

"—who will one day _taste hellfire_ for their blasphemous ways."

Crazy Harry bursts out from behind the remaining curtain and shouts, "Did someone say _hellfire_?!" before hitting the plunger. 

The casket explodes.

The. Fucking. Casket. Fucking. Explodes.

Muppets do not curse. Ever. Under any circumstances.

As bits of casket and Statler rain down upon the audience, Kermit screams, "FUCK!"

The minister flees the auditorium.

The audience collectively rises to its feet in a thunderous standing ovation even as Statler-bits continue to waft through the air.

Lew collects his fish and bows to the audience.

"God, I _love_ hipsters!" Miss Piggy shouts.

"FUCK!" Kermit screams again because he feels it's an important point and no one acknowledged it the first time.

"Old frogs never die; they just croak! Wocka wocka wocka!"

"Encore!" a hipster shouts.

The band hadn't rehearsed anything else so they launch into the old Muppet Show theme song. Gonzo has never let a cheering audience go to waste and he leaps onto the stage to lead a kick-line of rats and chickens.

Statler's daughter is either laughing hysterically or having a nervous breakdown. Astoria is definitely laughing.

There will be two more mild explosions before all is said and done, but Gonzo will be the only one hurt and he's kind of into that sort of thing so it's okay.

"Scooter?" Kermit says, catching his breath as he reverts to an eerie calm.

"Yeah, boss?"

"Do any of the rats have barista experience?"

"Well, a single breeding pair of rats can produce approximately two thousand offspring a year and they've been locked up here for a few decades. Statistically, our odds of a couple baristas are good. I can definitely guarantee you a few hundred lawyers and a dozen accountants."

"We'll need WiFi."

"On it, boss."

"And Scooter?"

"Yeah, boss?"

"Make sure to get the concession stand a liquor license."

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for your time. I'm over on Dreamwidth if you want to say "Hi."  
> [oldtoadwoman.dreamwidth.org](https://oldtoadwoman.dreamwidth.org)


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